This past week has been a smorgasbord of love.
It started with cinnamon toast and coffee with Jennifer, then Chipotle with Meg and little Kit.
It was bacon wrapped dates and cheeses and fig jelly for Katie's birthday.
Then it was rainbow trout and bluegrass with Nicole, Jim, Neelima and Himanshu.
Sunday lunch came together nicely- a mini garden turkey loaf meal- with Otis and Anna.
Aaron came that night and we ate Canes and leftovers and smiled over good news.
My mom and I sat beside tall glass windows filtering in the clearest, most beautiful day in East Texas and ate lentils and black beans, our brown eyes meeting for lunch on Monday.
Barbara served us up her chicken tetrazzini on that same night and we celebrated her new kitchen and Anna Grace's teeth, straight and braces-free.
Wednesday I brought a chicken biscuit and waited with Ben and Meg while she labored and delivered the most beautiful red headed baby boy and we'll celebrate tonight over some chicken enchiladas.
Yesterday it was at Cush's grocery and Market where Amye and I were served shrimp salad in an avocado and we prayed for her mom, for a miracle and for healing, and our hearts and words poured out like the iced tea.
Last night it was Korrie's famous spaghetti and meatballs and talk around the table that kept us out a little too much past the kids' bed time, but it was worth it.
It's all worth it.
It's always worth it.
More and more I'm convinced that coming to the table and looking at each other in the eye balls is one of the holiest things that we can do with our time.
So call your friend who is struggling and bring food to her if she can't meet you out. Eat it together. Ask her how she's doing. Call your mom and share what's on your heart and let love flow and heal. Share a laugh with your kids over some pizza. Give thanks together. Be honest and vulnerable and toast the good news or cry into your coffee. Accept dinner invitations and extend them whenever you can. Serve willingly and be willing to be served. Make this eating-together thing a top priority.
Your smorgasbord awaits.
"...I'm coming to see that the table is about food, and it's also about time. It's about showing up in person, a whole and present person, instead of a fragmented, frantic person, phone in one hand and to-do list in the other. Put them down, both of them, twin symbols of the modern age, and pick up a knife and fork. The table is where time stops. It's where we look people in the eye, where we tell the truth about how hard it is, where we make space to listen to the whole story, not the textable sound bite." Shauna Niequist, Bread and Wine